


Because We're Family

by Dean_hugs_Sammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s11e23 Alpha and Omega, Family, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:19:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7070785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dean_hugs_Sammy/pseuds/Dean_hugs_Sammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>”You and I both know you’re not gonna pull the trigger.” Set right after the season finale. Contains spoilers from 11x23.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because We're Family

Of course, she had pulled the damn trigger.

The bullet had swept through the air and pierced Sam's left shoulder - the impact making him stagger backwards a few steps while his brain tried to comprehend what had just happened. Sam's shoulder throbbed in white-hot pain, quickly numbing his entire arm and stealing away his breath. He almost laughed when he thought about the irony of it though; about how he'd barely just healed from his previous gunshot wound after weeks with a hovering big brother whom made sure Sam got the recommended bedrest. However, there was nothing funny about the situation, and how dared this lady, no matter who she claimed to be working for, to walk into his and Dean's _home,_ after everything Sam had just been through, and frigging _shoot_ him? Anger flaring, Sam looked at the oozing hole in his shoulder before staring daggers at the blonde woman in front of him, who was still pointing her gun at him.

"You bitch." Sam hissed out between clenched teeth, adding pressure to his bleeding shoulder with a shaky hand while leaning heavily against the map table.

"I did tell you to stop." The woman said in her thick British accent. "Now, are you going to come with me willingly or do you want to continue making this harder than it should be?"

"I'm not going anywhere with you." Sam answered, suppressing a moan of pain as his shoulder involuntarily twitched and caused more pain to flare up.

Sam knew he'd been so reckless. A Woman of Letters or not, Sam had known nothing about this lady and instead of trying to reason with her as he'd usually do in a situation like this, he'd pushed ahead and ended up getting shot. Dean would have torn him a new one for being so reckless and for allowing anyone to get the drop on him so easily… but Dean wasn't there. Dean wouldn't be kicking down the bunker door with guns blazing, wouldn't be saving Sam's ass and then teasing him for letting a girl get the better of him. Sam's brother was dead – had blown himself up to save the world (again), and this time he would never be back. Billie would have reaped Dean by now and thrown him into the Empty – a place Sam would never be able to reach… unless he died too, he supposed. How easy would it be just to let this foreign woman, who claimed to be from another department of the Men of Letters, finish him off? That sure would spare him from putting a bullet through his own brain somewhere down the road, when living without Dean inevitably became too much for him to bear.

"I think you should reconsider, Sam Winchester." The woman – Toni, was it? – said. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

"Honestly lady, I don't give a rat's ass." Sam huffed with a shake of his head.

Unless she was an apprentice of frigging Lucifer himself, Sam feared nothing from this woman. There wasn't anything she could do to him that Sam hadn't already endured in the cage tenfold, and physical pain didn't hurt nearly as much as the pain he felt on the inside anyway. Sam was still trying to come to terms with the fact that Dean was gone for good, and Sam's guts twisted in anguish every time he came to think of it.

Refusing to let this stranger see how much he was suffering though, the youngest Winchester stood tall - stoic expression on his face, jaw clenched tight. He had barely pushed away from the map table before another gunshot echoed in the room, and a blinding pain erupted in his shin – effectively knocking him to the ground. Sam gasped as his already hurt shoulder collided with the floor and black dots clouded his vision for a while. A blurry figure approached him and, when Sam was finally able to see more clearly again, Toni was standing right in front of him – gun still in hand.

"It doesn't have to be like this." Toni said. "Don't you think it's about time someone puts an end to the things you and your brother keep doing to the world? You must be aware that thousands of innocent lives have been lost because you played with things that were way beyond your abilities. It's a shame Dean won't be able to face the consequences of his actions like you will, but I guess he did us a favor by being gone already."

"Don't you dare talk about Dean like that!" Sam snarled, his entire body trembling in a mix of pain, blood loss and rage. "You know nothing about either one of us _or_ what we've been through. You don't know the sacrifices we made to save the world over and over again!"

"I know enough to see that you need to be stopped before you hurt anyone else." Toni said and Sam let out a humorless laugh. "Now, enough with the chitter-chatter. It's time to take you in to see the old man."

Drops of sweat trickled down Sam's temples and he blinked rapidly to stay focused. Blood seeped through his fingers from where he was still adding pressure to his shoulder, but he could do nothing to stop the flow of blood that was oozing from his shin. The blood loss was beginning to take its toll on Sam and, before he even realized what was happening, he hissed in pain and gulped for air as the British lady rolled him to his stomach and roughly began handcuffing him. Agony flared in both gunshot wounds and Sam began losing the fight to remain conscious. As darkness once again started creeping in on the edges of his vision, Sam could have sworn he heard Dean's voice calling his name in the distance. But Dean couldn't be there, right? So maybe Sam was closer to death than he'd originally thought.

Before his scrambled mind could even begin to find a rational explanation as to why he'd heard Dean's voice, Sam was roughly pulled from his thoughts as his hair was forcefully grabbed and his head yanked backwards.

"You lied to me! You said he was gone!" Toni's voice hissed in his ear, but Sam was too far gone to ask what the hell she was talking about.

The pressure on his hair was then released and Sam's forehead dropped back down, colliding with the floor none-too-gently to the sound of descending footsteps. Of all the ways Sam had imagined he would leave this world, this hadn't been one of them.

**_ SPN _**

Dean couldn't believe this was actually happening. A few hours ago, he'd been ready to die to stop Amara from destroying all life on earth, and now he was driving home to the bunker in a stolen car - with his mom riding shotgun. His _mom_ …!

Dean could barely concentrate on keeping the car on the road as his eyes kept turning to look at her. Mary Winchester, the mom he'd lost in a fire caused by the Yellow Eyed Demon more than thirty years ago, was sitting a few feet away from him - within arm's reach – and Dean still couldn't understand how this was even possible. She was looking just the same as the night she was killed too – white nightgown and all. Dean assumed this was what Amara was talking about when she'd said that she wanted to give him what he needed the most, and to Dean, that had always been his family. Whether Mary was back for good or only here for a limited time, neither one of them knew the answer to, but Dean wasn't gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. To have his mom back – even if it wasn't for more than a single day, was more than he could have ever asked for.

Naturally, they'd had a bit of catching up to do, but Mary had already known the basics. She couldn't explain how she knew so much about their lives and what they'd been doing all this time – couldn't explain how she was able to recognize Dean even though she hadn't seen him since he was four years old. She had no memory of being in Heaven and yet she knew that she'd been gone for a long time even before Dean had found her and told her what year it was.

Dean hadn't told Mary his entire life story though. Somehow, it felt wrong to do that without giving Sam the chance to tell it with him. That's why Dean, as soon as he'd found a way out of whatever wilderness he'd ended up in, hotwired a car and asked his mom to come home with him. And here they were; sitting side by side in an old, banged-up Ford Escort – and Dean almost felt like a kid again in his mom's presence.

"My little angel." Mary said, reached out a hand and gently caressed Dean's cheek while he drove. "You boys have been through so much, and it's all my fault. I'm so sorry, Dean. This was not the life I wanted for you and Sam."

"It's not your fault, Mom." Dean said, unconsciously leaning into the touch. "You didn't know what would happen, and you did what you had to do to save Dad. I don't blame you for anything and neither does Sam."

"I'm still sorry, honey." Mary said.

"Don't be. It's all in the past now, and me and Sam, we did pretty good…" Dean said just as they passed the city limit sign of Lebanon, Kansas. "We'll tell you everything when we get home. Sam's gonna be so surprised."

"Sam…" Mary said and smiled a little. "I can't wait to meet him. He was so tiny the last time I saw him."

"Believe me, he's grown a few inches since then." Dean snorted.

However, his smile faded a little while thinking about his little brother. At first, Dean hadn't been able to get a signal on his cell, and then he'd been so caught up in the reunion with his mom that he'd completely forgotten to give Sam a call. Hell, the last time he'd seen Sam, Dean had hugged him goodbye, and Sam had no idea that Dean had made it through the meet-up with Amara alive. Guilt instantly welled up in his chest, and Dean debated whether to give Sam a call straight away. Sam would, without a doubt, be a mess by now and Dean feared that he would have done something stupid – but at least Cas was there with him. Cas had promised to look out for Sam when Dean was gone, and Dean swore he would rip the wings off the angel if he hadn't lived up to that promise.

In the end, Dean decided not to call Sam, but only because he was a few miles away from the bunker and, at this point, he could as well wait. Some things were better to do face to face anyway.

"Oh, there's John's car!" Mary exclaimed when they pulled up in front of the bunker and the Impala came into view.

"Actually, it's my car now." Dean said with a smile. "Isn't she a sight for sore eyes?"

"Now you're sounding just like your father." Mary chuckled before they stepped out of the car and walked to the entrance of the bunker.

They'd barely made it inside the door, before Dean called his brother's name.

"Saaaam?" He called. "Sammy, it's me! Guess what, I didn't kick the bucket after all – and I even brought a special guest with me. You'll never guess who it is! … Sam?"

Dean walked forward to the banister, looked down at the war room and froze on the spot. He saw Sam - Sam lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood - and horror and dread immediately filled him. He should have called… Damn it, he should have called!

"No, no, no." Dean muttered under his breath, then pushed away from the banister and sprinted down the stairs as fast as he could – his mom completely forgotten. "Sam!"

Dean slid to his knees next to Sam's unmoving body, breath caught in his throat as he desperately checked his brother for a pulse – almost crying in relief when he found a weak one. Dean ran a hand through Sam's sweat-soaked hair and gently cupped Sam's cheek that felt clammy to the touch, face pale from blood loss.

"Goddamn it, Sammy. What did you do?" Dean scolded, started searching for the source of the bleeding but then spotted the handcuffs around Sam's wrists. "What the hell…?"

"Oh my God!" Mary gasped from somewhere behind Dean.. "What happened? Dean, is he alright?"

"He's alive." Dean said, quickly checking their surroundings for dangers and then reached into the back of his waistband to grab his gun. "Mom, help Sam. I'll be right back."

Dean jumped to his feet, cocked his gun, and hurried down one of the many corridors of the bunker in hopes of finding the son of a bitch that had dared hurting his brother.

**_SPN_**

Dean was fuming with rage. Someone had broken into the bunker, hurt and handcuffed his little brother, and had even managed to get away by stealing a car from the bunker's garage and leaving through the gate.

By the time Dean got back to the war room where he'd left Sam with their mom, the handcuffs were off Sam's wrists and his kid brother's head was carefully placed on their mom's lap. From the looks of it, Mary had tried to stop the bleeding on Sam's leg with a piece of cloth (that looked suspiciously much like the fabric of her nightgown) and was currently keeping pressure on Sam's shoulder.

"Gunshot wounds." Mary said when Dean kneeled down next to his family – first-aid kit in hand. "Leg needs stitches, bullet went straight through. The one in his shoulder has no exit-wound."

"Damn it." Dean cursed, not looking forward to having to dig out another bullet from his brother's body in such a short expanse of time.

At least Sam was unconscious this time around, although Dean couldn't decide if that was comforting or not considering how much blood Sam had lost at this point. To Dean's big relief though, the shots didn't seem to have hit anything vital – which was either extremely lucky or meant that the attacker had only intended to injure, not kill. Anger once again made its presence known, but Dean pushed it down for now. Dean could hunt down Sam's attacker once his little brother _wasn't_ bleeding to death on the floor of the bunker.

They took care of Sam's injuries in unison. Dean picked out the bullet from Sam's shoulder with a pair of tweezers and then lett his mom stitch the wound and patch it up, while Dean moved on to work on Sam's leg. Mary had obviously been a hunter before she settled down with John Winchester and she knew what she was doing, but that wasn't what pleased Dean the most to witness. It was the tender way she looked at Sam as only a true mother would do (or say, as a protective big brother whom had basically been a substitute mother to his little brother almost his entire life would do) that Dean silently approved of.

As soon as Sam's wounds had been taken care of, they carried him to his room. Mary had wanted to take Sam to the nearest hospital but Dean didn't wanna deal with the authorities – especially not when they had angelic help at hand. However, no matter how many times Dean called for Cas, the angel never showed his face, so in the end, Dean decided to go for a blood transfusion instead. While Mary went to the kitchen to pick up a few items, Dean stripped Sam of his blood-stained jeans and shirts and tucked his brother in. Mary returned to Sam's room with a wet cloth and a glass of water in hand and, while Dean prepared to do the blood transfusion, his mom set the glass aside on the bedside table, sat down on the edge of Sam's bed, and used the cloth to dap at Sam's damp face.

"I can't believe my tiny baby boy has gotten so big." Mary said with a fond shake of her head. "Is he even taller than you?"

"He is." Dean confirmed, while inserting a tube into a vein on the inside of Sam's elbow. "Sam was tiny for a long time though, always getting picked on at school for being so small for his age. That all changed when he hit puberty and his growth spurt set in – annoyed the hell out of me the day he grew over my head."

Mary laughed a little at that and Dean smiled. God, he'd missed hearing his mother's laugh. He winced a little when he noticed the crimson patches on her white nightgown - Sam's blood – which reminded him all too well of the night their family was ripped apart all those years ago. Once Sam was out of the woods, Dean would make sure that his mom got something else to wear than that goddamn nightgown.

Shaking himself out of his gloomy thoughts, Dean inserted the other end of the tube that was connected to Sam's elbow, into the artery of his own wrist, and Dean's blood soon began flowing through the tube to Sam.

"You've done that before." Their mom observed and Dean nodded.

"Too many times." He said with regret, rubbing at his tired eyes.

Mary stood up from the edge of Sam's bed, went to the desk and dragged a chair back with her before ordering Dean to sit down on it. She then placed a soft kiss on the top of Dean's head.

"As soon as the transfusion's done, you're gonna get some rest, angel." Mary said. "I'll watch over the both of you."

She sat back down on the edge of the bed, gently stroking Sam's hair, and Dean's eyes suddenly burned.

**_ SPN _**

Sam was dead.

He was sure of it.

He was dead. Gone. Had ceased to exist. And he hadn't even been able to outlive Dean by one single day.

At first, Sam couldn't remember what had happened. Everything around him was dark and shapeless, and he wondered if this was what Billie had described as 'the Empty'. Maybe this was it; a place without form and size - an endless darkness of emptiness and nothingness from where no one could ever escape. The darkness around him seemed to swallow him up, and Sam wanted to shout and scream. He wanted to break free of the chains that held him in place – wanted to see light and life and love again.

Time didn't seem to have any meaning there. For all he knew, he could have been there for seconds, days, weeks even. Hell, Sam could have been there an eternity and he would never know.

_Dean_ … Dean had to be out there somewhere, right? Sam tried to open his mouth to form his brother's name, but blackness seeped into his throat – threatening to choke him.

Someone whimpered (it might have been himself) but did sound really exist in the Empty?

Sam whimpered again and tried to move his heavy limbs, desperate to find Dean in this horrific place before insanity ripped his mind apart – before Sam forgot who he was and what it meant to have a brother.

He heard another sound, and confusion replaced his urge to find Dean for a few seconds. Was someone shushing him? A soft touch settled on Sam's forehead, and it felt calming, warm – but different. Sam gasped as the numbness he'd felt suddenly morphed into pain. How was this even possible?

And that was when it happened; the darkness started fading, giving way to light. It was wonderful – yet, oh so horrible. It felt like all of Sam's senses rebooted at once, and it was too much – all too much.

"Shh baby, it's okay. You're safe now." A voice said – a female voice – and Sam's eyes finally opened.

At first, everything was too bright. Sam had to clench his eyes shut and open them back up a few times, before they began to get used to the light. A pair of blue eyes stared back at him, making Sam jerk in surprise, and he groaned as pain made itself known in his shoulder and leg by the sudden movement.

"Take it easy, Sammy. You were shot." The woman said.

Sam blinked a few times, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind, and that was when he recognized her; the woman he only really remembered from pictures and from the scarce things Dad and Dean had told him about her during the years.

"M-Mom?" Sam stuttered out.

"Yes, Sam." She nodded and smiled down at him, and Sam was suddenly overwhelmed by emotions.

There was so much he wanted to ask her, so much he wanted her to know – and yet he could do nothing more than stare at his mom's beautiful face while his eyes welled up.

"Am I in Heaven?" Sam croaked out.

His mom opened her to mouth to answer him but was interrupted by a voice, Sam would recognize anywhere, saying: "He awake?"

Before Sam could turn his head to look for his brother, Dean's face was suddenly in front of him – the expression on his big brother's face changing from worried to relieved in a heartbeat.

"Hi Sammy." Dean grinned, and this time Sam wasn't able to stop the tears from spilling over. "Hey, hey, come on. None of that, little brother."

Sam ignored both Dean's attempt to stop him from crying and the pain in his body, as he struggled to get upright on the bed.

"Whoa whoa, Sammy, stop." Dean exclaimed and placed a hand on Sam's chest to push him back down, but Sam threw his arms around his brother's chest – burying his face into Dean's shoulder, which effectively shut Dean up.

Sam felt Dean's arms carefully wrap around his back, one hand settling on the back of his neck, and it felt like coming home. Sniffing in his brother's scent, Sam let go of all the pain he'd felt when he'd lost Dean, and sobbed into Dean's neck – completely ignoring how his injuries screamed in protest to being jostled.

"Y-you d-died." Sam cried in between sobs and Dean's arms tightened around him.

"No, I didn't." Dean said in a soft voice. "Chuck and Amara chose to work on their family issues instead of destroying the world. I made it, Sam."

"No…" Sam shook his head in denial. "You got blown up, I got shot. We're both dead. Mom is here."

"Sammy, I promise you, we're still alive." Dean said, pulling back from the hug to look at Sam's tear-stricken face. "Amara left me a parting gift. Apparently, Mom is back now."

Sam stared at Dean in disbelief when vertigo suddenly overcame him. He must have looked as dizzy as he felt, because Dean gently pushed him back down on the bed while muttering something about little brothers getting shot and about blood loss. A glass of water appeared in front of Sam's lips, and Dean held on to the back of his head while Sam took a few sips of it. He was then lowered back down on his pillow, and Sam realized he was lying in his own bed, in his room in the bunker. He turned his head and looked at their mom again, still not fully believing that she was anything but a fraction of his imagination. Sam swallowed hard when she smiled at him – then slowly allowed himself to smile back at her. She reached out her hand and wiped the tears off his face in a tender manner, and Sam just stared at her, savoring the moment.

"Sammy." Dean said, catching Sam's attention once more. "Who shot you?"

"Eh… Some British lady." Sam recalled. "Think her name was Toni… something. Dean, she said she was from the Men of Letters, London section."

"What? I thought all the Men of Letters were gone?" Dean said, eyes wide.

"So did I." Sam said. "But she said they'd been watching us. She knew about the angels, Leviathans and the Darkness. Hell, she blew Cas to God knows where… and she said she was there to take us in."

"Take us in? What the hell does that mean?" Dean huffed.

"No idea. But apparently, we're not popular, it seems." Sam sighed, eyelids getting heavier.

"And then she shot you?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

"That bitch!" Dean growled. "I don't care who the hell she is or what kind of stupid mission she believes to be on. When I find her, I'm gonna rip her apart!"

Sam would have agreed had he not suddenly felt so unbelievable tired. He didn't even realize his eyes had shut before he opened them back up when he felt his blanket being tucked closer around him.

"Sleep, Sammy." Dean said, brushing a hand through Sam's hair. "We'll talk later."

His mom put her hand on top of his, and between her and Dean, Sam felt safer than he'd done in a long time. Thanks to himself and Dean, the world continued to spin yet again, but the threats never seemed to stop coming. However, with Dean back at his side and now with their mom here too, Sam felt like there was nothing they couldn't do… as long as they had each other.

* * *

**THE END**

 


End file.
